


C Major

by Lindsword



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Music Store, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Relationships, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-16 15:15:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8107162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lindsword/pseuds/Lindsword
Summary: “Get a hobby,” he said, “It’ll be fun,” he said. --Having the walking shitpost that is Lance McClain as a piano teacher when you were expecting the big teddy bear Hunk Garrett is to say the least, a rude awakening to Keith. Learning an instrument was something that he had just done to appease Shiro and his worrisome nature, but he finds himself growing more and more attached to both the instrument... and the instructor.





	1. Bad First Impressions

**Author's Note:**

> Hello friends!! My name is Lindsay // spacesasuke on tumblr and I'm Klance trash hahaa,,  
> This AU has been rolling around in my head for a bit now and I finally started writing it! Essentially this is an adult music lessons AU where Lance, Hunk and Pidge work at a music store owned by Allura (formerly owned by her father) and managed by Coran, but in this storyline we'll get to watch the growth of these nerds + Keith through music, through love and subsequent self-denial of said love woops  
> So hang on tight! This is a generally happy AU but I am throwing a few twists and turns in there! (Because what is a story of mine without that angst right) Enjoy and I hope to see you again for chapter two!

_“Get a hobby,” he said, “It’ll be fun,” he said._

 

“Maybe learning to play an instrument?” he’d suggested. “Learning to knit?” Shiro was just grabbing at straws at that point. Keith would choose an instrument over knitting any day. It sounded like such an idle chore to him, only his hands busy, his mind numb. 

 

He already had a ‘hobby’ that provided that sweet release, he argued. He often worked out at the gym with Shiro, but since he’d begun making his hands bleed even through their protective wraps from using the punching bags so excessively, his brother had suggested a healthier and less painful alternative, at least for a little while, at least until his hands healed properly.

 

So, Keith found himself walking through the jingling doors of a local music store by the name of Altean Medley, that was recommended to him by Shiro due to the fact that one of his ‘close friends’ owned the fine establishment. Her name was Allura, and Keith, being the pestering younger brother that he so prided himself in being, often accused of being Shiro’s girlfriend, which the older man would vehemently deny.

 

It was a little overwhelming really. All those instruments, some mounted on the wall, others nestled safely in their stands, nearly crowded the small shop. He looked and his fingers ached to touch them, though he wasn’t quite sure if that was polite or allowed. They were all so shiny and new, glossy and unplayed beyond the occasional test run. Keith was nearly entranced with all the options but was ever so rudely pulled from his own thoughts by a loud voice coming from the service counter that he hadn’t really noticed yet, who just now seemed to have noticed him. 

 

“Hey there! Welcome to Altean Medley, where we buy, sell, rent, teach and repair all your musical instruments to industry standard, guaranteed!” called a smiling man rushing in from a back room, tall and tanned, his gangly limbs almost getting ahead of him. “My name is Lance, is there anything I can help you with today, hotshot?” he inquired flirtatiously, propping his arms on the counter and resting his cheeks in his hands. 

 

Keith watched this ‘Lance’ as his comfortable position went rigid due to his name being exasperatedly and scoldingly shouted from the back room that he had emerged from. “Shut up, Pidge!” he had responded hastily, before returning his gaze to Keith and sitting up a little from the counter.

 

“Seriously this time,” he chuckled, his grin now warm and welcoming. “What can I help you with today?”

 

Keith slowly wandered over to the desk, feeling the tinge of mounting excitement now, after wafting through the forest of instruments. “Uh, yeah,” he began, drifting back to reality. “I’d like to sign up for music lessons,”

 

“Do you have any idea of what instrument you would like to take?” Lance asked him, lifting up a little from his elbows.

 

“Not… really,” Keith admitted. There were so many choices, he had observed. So many opportunities with so many different sounds. 

 

“Well,” Lance ducked below the counter and came back with a hefty book that looked like it had seen way better days. “I pray that this will not fall apart before you make your decision,” he chuckled, lifting the large cover of the binder to reveal several worn tabs, each labeling a section for the many instruments that they taught at Altean Medley.

 

Keith thumbed through the pages, which were surprisingly well organized by instrument family. Some of the papers were newer than others. For example, the ones that just gave the basic outline of each instrument and their required equipment were soft and flexible from all the wear and tear over the years, whereas the ones that detailed the instructors for each instrument were still fairly crisp and new. However, Keith could barely focus as he browsed, since the man in front of him would not stop bragging about his supposed expertise in music.

 

“Ah you know, I just play a little acoustic, a little electric guitar, a little sax, some uke, trumpet, you name it, I teach it, and I teach it well,” Lance smirked, leaning over on his elbow again. “You’ll be fluent in the language of music in no time if you take one of my instruments,” Once again, cut off by a protest coming from the back room. Keith wished that this person (Pidge?) was the one helping him right now instead of this massive egoist.

 

“What do you _not_ teach?” Keith looked up at him, a little irritated. Even if he wanted to take any of those instruments, he was surely not going to take it under this braggart. 

 

“Well, everything that I listed except for uke is what I teach here, why?” Lance blinked, a little confused as to why his customer seemed so annoyed so early on. 

 

“I think I’ll take piano then,” Keith shut the book with a bit of a defiant huff. “How do I sign up?”

 

“I’m hurt man,” Lance feigned wiping a tear away as he searched around for something, coming back with a small stack of forms. “You just fill out these papers, and since piano is not a rentable instrument, you’ll only have to do the front two sheets, you can leave the last one blank, since that’s the rental form,” he explained, sifting through the aforementioned pages as he spoke before handing Keith the papers along with a pen.

 

Even as Keith was patiently filling out the seemingly redundant papers, Lance would not stop running his mouth, to the point that he was nearly writing down what the man was blabbering on about instead of his own address. He did manage to finish them up though, blocking Lance out for at least a moment to try and proof read what he had put down. 

  
“Alright, I’ll need a copy of your driver’s license or any other form of ID as well as a payment of $100 for your first month of  lessons,” Lance instructed after finishing whatever he was going on about. Keith quietly pulled out his wallet to retrieve his license and his debit card, handing them both to the man behind the counter. 

 

“Keith Kogane, huh?” Lance commented, taking a look at the card as he handled the transaction and made a copy of his license for their records.

 

Keith opened his mouth to correct his pronunciation, but closed it again. “Hey,” he said slowly. “You said it right.” Surprise was evident in his voice, Keith was quite used to correcting people pronouncing his surname as ‘koh-gain’ instead of ‘koh-gah-neh.’, the way it was meant to be pronounced.

 

“Dude, I’m not as think as you dumb I am,” Lance grinned absently as he watched for the receipt to print out of his register. He ripped it off as soon as it came out and handed it, along with Keith’s cards back to him. 

 

Keith thanked him and stood for a moment after returning his belongings back to his wallet, a bit unsure what to do while Lance entered his information in the computer, his long, thin fingers nimble and quick on the keyboard, the rapid tapping sounds rhythmic and grounding to Keith. “All finished,” Lance smiled, making a big deal of pressing down the final key.

 

“So this is how it will go,” Lance began, turning back to Keith. “Your teacher’s name is Hunk, right now he’s out getting us all lunch, but his picture is over there on the wall for Employee of the month, three months in a row,” he pointed to his left, rolling his eyes a little with a small laugh disguised as a huff of breath. “He’s my longtime best friend and roommate and you’ll do well under him,” 

 

“However,” Lance’s blue eyes darkened a bit as his smile turned into a smirk. “If you really want to meet him today, you can hang out here with me, sweet thang,” He shot finger guns and winked at Keith, who squinted at him in disgust for a moment before Pidge from the back room saved him yet again, apologizing and pulling Lance by the ear back into said back room, returning and apologizing to him again.  
  
“I’m so sorry for our town fool, please disregard him,” Pidge sighed, shaking their head. “Is there anything else I can help you with? You’re welcome to look around while you wait for Hunk or you can just meet him at your first lesson. Oh, the name’s Pidge, by the way,” Pidge was small in stature, shorter than Keith by a few inches and substantially shorter than their resident ‘town fool’, but their presence was commanding, scary when angered as had just been proved. 

 

“Uh, Keith,” Keith responded eventually, still feeling a bit of residue annoyance from Lance’s crude flirtations as well as surprise from Pidge’s nearly immediate and violent response. “I—uh, I have some errands to run today, so it’ll just have to wait, I think.” he lied. Keith kind of wanted to get out of there to save him from the chance of Lance bothering him again, even though he was fairly sure Pidge could keep that from happening. And besides, if it weren’t for Lance’s terrible attitude and egotistical tendencies, the guy was kind of cute. However, assholes were not his type. 

 

__________

 

The week’s time between his initial visit to Altean Medley came and went and once again Keith drifted through the ocean of instruments to get to a small hallway past the service counter where he had been told that lessons would take place. Pidge was busy with a customer and Lance was nowhere in sight, thank goodness. He figured that Hunk must have been waiting in the piano room for him in the second room to the right. Or was it the left? Was it even the second room? Keith really should have written this down. 

 

Suddenly a door a little ways down the hall was flung open and an unfortunately familiar face emerged, seemingly exhilarated to see him. “Hey Keith! Change of plans, I’m your piano teacher,” Lance called, a little too loudly for an instructional area, Keith thought. 

 

“Oh _hell no._ ”

 


	2. Straight as a Ruler

_“And you’re giving me your personal cell phone number why?”_

 

Keith figured that this was yet another attempt at Lance’s romantic endeavors with him, but alas, this was disproven by his new teacher’s response. He expected it to be another chance to hit on him, but apparently it was for a much more innocent purpose, although it did not come without a personal jab.

 

“It’s how we communicate with our students here,” Lance explained. “Sudden cancellations, re-schedulings, et cetera. Even with our children students, we get their parent or guardian’s number for the same purpose.” Then came the jab, an annoying smirk spreading across the man’s features. “I thought you were grown up enough to handle having a pretty guy’s number for a professional relationship, Keith,” His voice was teasing and Keith returned his sentiments with a scowl. 

 

“Hmph, you? Professional? I must be a virtuoso then!” Keith folded his arms with a huff, so ready to leave out of here for the second time in one day _._

 

The only thing that had kept him from walking straight back out the door once he had found out that Lance was going to be his teacher was the fact that he had already paid for an entire month of lessons in advance, which were on a monthly payment plan regardless. Apparently since piano was such a popular instrument, Hunk was overbooked and Lance ever so conveniently was proficient at piano among the many other instruments he claimed to be an expert in. 

 

“If you were a virtuoso, you wouldn’t be here,” Lance replied, very matter of factly. “So disregarding the sarcasm, you just admitted my superb level of professionalism, my dude. But seriously, I’ll try not to text you unless it’s absolutely necessary if you would like, even though you can text me whenever you need me,”

 

“Whatever,” Keith grumbled as he created a new contact for Lance, tempted to type in a rather vulgar name for him while he was so clearly watching Keith’s every move. He didn’t know if he could take this for a full month, even if it meant forfeiting essentially three quarters of his $100. 

 

“But anyway, let’s get down to it,” Lance gave a small laugh before pulling out some instructional books. “Do you know anything at all about music?”  
  
Keith half-expected his question to be in a condescending, causing him to bristle up in defense before pausing and letting his guard down a little. Blue eyes stared at him; something was changing about Lance right now. He was becoming softer, more understanding. It was a little creepy, to be honest.

 

“Um,” he began. “Not really. Not at all, actually.”

 

“And that’s totally fine,” Lance nodded, opening one of the books up to the first page. “We’ll go over some basic theory before I teach you a little about the piano itself,” He patted the glossy surface of the ebony instrument, lovingly almost. “This first bit might be a little boring, but once we really get into instruction, it’ll be so fun you won’t want to go home, I promise!” 

 

His loud laugh rang throughout the small room and Keith would be lying if he said it didn’t leave him at least a little dumbfounded. Where was the arrogant jerk that was just in the room with him? Who was this and what had he done with Lance?

 

They ran through the bare bones of the inner workings of music. Lance said that he wouldn’t try to overwhelm him on their first lesson, but the hardest part for Keith so far were the actual positioning of the letters on the staff in both clefs. The rest seemed like simple math and fractions to him, something that he had been decently good at in school, if he did say so himself. 

 

The man he had recently regarded as an insufferable know-it-all had morphed into something else. In normal conversation, Keith couldn’t stand him, but in their lesson he had become an actual human being. It was as if he was teaching him as gently as he would a child but surprisingly, without being patronizing. But what happened next threatened to make Keith’s feelings change a bit. Lance pulled out a yardstick from a shelf near to where he was sitting before leaning it against the side of the piano.

 

“What… is that for?” Keith’s whole body tightened, a little more than apprehensive, gearing up for self-defense if necessary.

 

“Relax, I won’t have to use it if you play well,” Lance laughed, as if the large stick was not even there. “Now, hands in Middle C position and play each key in order from right to left, just the ones that your fingers are touching for now, and try to connect the sounds like I showed you, like stepping from one key to the next,”

 

Keith narrowed his eyes at Lance skeptically, but obeyed. Finger one, finger two, three, four—Uh oh. He tensed and his fists went up protectively as Lance grabbed for the yardstick. “Don’t you dare—”

 

“Keith, dude, calm down, I’m really not going to hit you, and if you punch me I promise you’ll have much more to worry about than getting banned from this store,” That sentence had began with a reassuring chuckle, but Lance’s voice turned darker and a bit more serious as it progressed, before his grin returned again. “Alright, fingers back on the keys, if you would,”

 

Still a bit doubtful, Keith placed his fingers back on the piano and before he could begin playing again, he felt something wooden slide under his wrists, nudging them upwards a little. Ah. This was what the yardstick was for. 

 

“Your wrists’ posture is very important when playing piano, as I  had said a few minutes ago while we were still looking at the keys and what they meant. It’s really, really easy to forget and let your wrists sag, but once you’re in the habit of keeping them parallel with the instrument, it’s almost second nature,” Lance said knowingly. 

 

“When Hunk and I were learning piano, we actually got slapped on the wrist with something like this, and I was even learning under my grandmother, who you’d think wouldn’t hit her own grandchild, but in hindsight, I probably deserved all those little slaps on the wrist,” A small laugh bubbled from his lips, lightening Keith’s heavy mood, even getting a small grin from him as Keith imagined what a handful Lance as a child must have been, given the current Lance.

 

“So to say the least, this little technique was adapted from that one by Hunk, who was as much of a fan as I was of those tough-love lessons,” Lance rolled his eyes. “And nothing coming from Hunk will ever hurt you, I promise. It might be a little annoying at first, but it’ll work 110% of the time,”

 

Keith was about to make an offhanded remark about how he definitely trusted Hunk’s methods over his, but found himself concentrating very intensely on the seemingly simple task at hand. As he pressed each key down, he paid careful attention to ‘connect the sounds’ as Lance had instructed while still keeping his wrists in proper position. Each time this small exercise was repeated Keith felt his skin touch the hard wood of the yardstick and almost immediately jerked a bit, causing his stepping sounds to become more like uneven, jumping ones, but he did begin to catch on.

 

“You must be straight as this awesome yardstick,” Lance spoke to the tune of ‘I’ll Make a Man Out of You’, bobbing his head to the intense mental rhythm he apparently had going.

 

“Hmph, that’ll be hard for me,” Keith mumbled under his breath as he finished his current round of key-pressing, laughing a little at the irony of it. Lance seemed to be a little bit too consumed in the reenactment of that scene from Mulan that was inevitably playing through in his head right now to notice. “But did you seriously just quote _Disney_ with me?” Keith pulled his hands away from the piano and looked at Lance, slowly grasping the concept that a grown man just quoted Mulan, for God’s sake.

 

“Hey, Mulan is a motivating and inspirational movie!” 

 

“Sure, Lance,”

“Well since you’re insulting Mulan now, I think we’re done for the day,” Lance feigned offense as he checked the time on his phone. “Lucky you, not getting kicked out early for insulting your favorite teacher’s favorite Disney movie. Okay, maybe not _favorite_ movie and it’s actually time for you to go anyway, but you get it,” he shrugged, getting up to put the yardstick in its original home and closing Keith’s instructional books for him.

 

“Favorite teacher? You really do think a lot of yourself, huh?” Keith scowled, standing up and pushing in the piano bench. Here came the arrogant Lance that he hadn’t missed over the course of their lesson. “I have a lot of terrible professors right now and I think I like them more than I like you right now,”

 

Which was a lie.

 

Keith really did hate some of his professors and with others, he was just riding the current to get his degree at this point. But Lance, Lance was something different. He wasn’t middle aged, he didn’t _really_ have it out for him on a daily basis, and he was actually kind and encouraging in their lessons. Sure, his normal personality could use some work, but seeing this new side of him after his horrible first impression kind of softened Keith’s critical view of Lance as a person. Lance was not _nearly_ as bad as the professors that Keith had the highest toleration for, even if he was still annoying at best. 

 

“Wow, man, _harsh,_ ” Lance placed his hand over his heart in faux pain. “Not doing anything to feed my self-esteem, huh? I was hoping that I was doing good, being that this has been my first time teaching a piano lesson ever,”

 

“Oh, it shows,” At this point Keith was on the verge of laughter, now not even irritated, but just pushing Lance’s buttons. (Which were so easy to push, it seemed.)  
  
“I’m totally going to ignore that because I feel like as your teacher, it wouldn’t be right—or allowed—to call you an asshole, which you are being right now,” Lance’s lower lip pushed outwards in a bit of a pout as he opened the door of the instruction room and exited. “But for the record, as Lance, I think you’re an asshole,” he jabbed laughingly. 

 

“I completely share the sentiment,” Keith agreed as he closed the door behind him.

 

“Oh,” Lance started suddenly, as if remembering something important that he needed to inquire about. “You said professors, what are you studying?”

 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”  
  
“Yes, that’s exactly why I asked, Keith.”

 

“Maybe next time, ‘hotshot’,” Keith replied sarcastically as the emerged from the lesson hall and reentered the store part of the building, really not feeling like going into what he was sure would feel like his whole life story with Lance. Yeah, he was just asking about college, but Keith wasn’t too willing to divulge such personal information, especially when he would probably be expected to return the question. 

 

‘Oh Lance, what are _you_ studying?’ ‘You know, I’m majoring in Idiotry and minoring in Assholery with a few courses in How to be a Normal Human Being On Occasion.’ Keith really didn’t care.

 

He walked ahead of Lance, and headed towards the door to leave, but was stopped by a large figure that towered over him by quite a few inches. Woah. And he thought that Lance was tall. Okay, past the point of initial amazement, maybe they were around the same height but this guy had way more muscle than Lance, even though that wasn’t saying too much, from what Keith could see. 

 

“You must be Keith,” said the man in front of him. “I’m Hunk, and I really wanted to apologize for having to drop you as a student without any prior warning. I’m really, _really_ overbooked with piano, a lot of kids—a lot of wonderful kids—but a lot of them nonetheless.” A warm smile adorned his face and even though Keith was definitely not one to hug strangers, Hunk definitely seemed huggable. But alas, Keith would resist for the purpose of his dignity. 

 

“O-Oh,” Keith muttered, a little surprised at the sudden stop to avoid running into Hunk when he was so intent on the path to the door. “I understand, don’t lose any sleep over it,” Keith said reassuringly. 

 

 _It’s not like I’m staying for any longer than the month I paid for anyway,_ he thought. He felt kind of bad, because Hunk and Pidge both seemed really nice and he would have entertained the thought of taking another instrument specifically under them instead of Lance if this wasn’t just a temporary assuagement for Shiro. His hands were having a hard time healing up because the skin around the knuckles are tight and easy to break back open, but he was quite sure that by the end of the month he would be fine to drop this ‘hobby’ and return to working out on the punching bag, which was admittedly his favorite part of his daily workout. Shiro just thought he needed an extra outlet is all. A monthlong and expensive outlet, apparently. 

 

Hunk continued to talk for a moment when Keith managed to hear two muffled whispers behind him. ‘He called me _hotshot_ , Pidge! That’s totally my line!’ ‘I think that was the point he was trying to make, Lance.’ ‘But—! Urgh,’ ‘You’ve got it bad, son.’ ‘I do _not_!’

 

Quite unsure of what the duo were going on about, he tried to round off his conversation with Hunk, who turned out to be quite the talker, to make his exit, as he had a few minutes prior. He was nearly to the door when—

 

“Hey Keith!”  
  
_Shit._ Just when he was almost gone. “What is it, Lance?”

 

“I just wanted to let you know that I—” Lance paused to giggle a bit before putting up his signature finger guns. “I _C Major_ potential in you as a student!”

 

_What._

A moment of silence passed before the other two people in the room groaned exasperatedly.

 

“That wasn’t even funny, Lance!” Hunk groused.

 

“Please end him or me, either one,” Pidge complained.

 

Despite his friends’ reactions, Lance was absolutely howling with laughter. What was so funny about this situation? Absolutely nothing. Keith knew he was missing something, but what, he didn’t know.

 

“Uh,” Keith squinted as if narrowing his field of vision would somehow help him interpret the joke. It didn’t. “Right,” he finished off slowly, lingering with his hand on the door pushbar for a moment, still pondering with a furrowed brow. He finally shook his head and just left, leaving poor Hunk and Pidge with Lance, who looked like he was probably dangerously close to peeing himself from laughing so hard and long. Weird.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MMmmMM, look at those references and subtle foreshadowing,,,,  
> and keith getting lance's stick woops //my friend told me to say that 
> 
> Thank you for reading! Ch 3 will hopefully come as quickly as this one did!!


	3. Conflictions, Complications and Contemplations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I'm NOT DEAD but it did take me three weeks to write like 7 short paragraphs. This chapter is a good size but I swear I had like 80% done really early after Ch 2 and I just ran outta time and here I am, finally, 2 weeks later, posting this. SO THANK YOU AND ENJOY
> 
> ***ALSO, Slight mention of drugs at the end. No one is doing drugs, it's mentioned in a comical fashion mostly. Not intended to make anyone uncomfortable.***

The next three lessons passed nearly identically to how the first one did. Poking fun at each other, Lance continuing to nurture Keith’s fledgling relationship with music, getting to know Hunk and Pidge before he left. Keith had to admit that he was actually beginning to enjoy himself, especially given the fact that Lance had become less and less grating as time passed and that he was actually beginning to get the hang of the bare bone basics of piano. Next came his decision on whether or not to continue past the first month. 

 

Shiro had even inquired about it. “So, how are you enjoying those piano lessons, Keith?” 

 

He and his older adoptive brother roomed together in the small apartment that Shiro had occupied long before Keith had elected to attend the college in the same town. However, given their schedules and the fact that one of them had current romantic pursuits that he would deny until hell froze over or she said yes, whichever came first, they only met one another in passing other than their mutual morning workout sessions, which had been partially denied to Keith given the current situation with his injured hands. 

 

“It’s okay,” Keith responded shortly, grabbing the remote and changing the channel on the television that they were both positioned comfortably in front of on the cool Saturday evening. He got the strange feeling that an undertone of ‘I told you so’ was coming if he confessed his growing adoration for the initially forced pastime. Keith had tried to buck Shiro as much as he could in encouraging him to pick up a hobby other than beating himself bloody on exercise equipment, but obviously, had eventually given in, but not without guaranteeing that he wouldn’t enjoy a second of it. 

 

“Well good,” Shiro said, his tone reminiscent of contentedness. For a moment he had paused, but then continued, as Keith expected. “So are you going to keep going? I mean, your hands _are_ nearly healed.” This was ‘I told you so’ bait and Keith knew it. 

 

Keith turned his hands over, gazing at the light pink skin that was forming in place of his wounds. “No—” he blurted, pursing his lips quickly.

 

“Why not?” Keith could hear the genuine surprise in his brother’s voice and felt the couch shift as a result of the change in body language.

 

“I mean,” he began, backpedaling a little bit. “I don’t know. It’s not as bad as I thought it’d be, I guess.” He thought of how mesmerized he felt by the expanse of of instruments, their glossy lacquer visibly untouched and unscathed, innocent and awaiting their destined musician. Keith also let his mind linger to the three friends he had made in the short time of that obligatory month and felt a bit of an emotional ache at leaving them behind. Yes, that did include Lance.

 

Lance. What was it about him that had changed? He seemed to be the same egotistical flirt that he had been on day one, but seeing a separate and completely different side to him in their lessons as they grew more comfortable with each other left Keith enlightened and confused. How could the person he couldn’t stand and the person that he almost anticipated seeing be the same guy?

 

“There’s no shame in either decision you make, but if you’re uncertain, why not give it another month?”

 

“I’ll think about it,”

 

And sure enough, Keith paid for another month and showed up to his next lesson. Lance had told him that he was honestly surprised when Hunk had told him that his payment had come through and their lesson was still scheduled for their normal day and time. 

 

“Yeah, don’t get used to it,” Keith had told him. 

 

But yet, it went on like this. 

 

“Just one more month.” 

 

“Maybe another.” 

 

“Okay, one more and then I’m done.”

 

What kept him continuing to up his sentence? This was just a temporary thing, right? Keith had returned to working out full-time with Shiro, begrudgingly exercising with a little more moderate use of the punching bags, but surprisingly, he found that he had less stress to work off with each passing session. 

 

Their next lesson was to say the least, eventful. It went as normal, scales and songs from his instructional book, but then instead of praise or constructive criticism, Lance just stared at him with those deep blue eyes of his.

 

“You’re tired of these exercises, aren’t you?”

 

“Well,” Keith glanced at his book, admittedly a little exhausted of the extremely vanilla compositions that he had worked through one by one. He had actually made quite a dent in the book and was nearing the end of the beginner level one. “Yeah, I really am.” he exhaled, relieved that Lance had brought it up instead of him.

 

“Alright then, we can do something more interesting then!” Lance exclaimed, clapping his hands together a bit. “Do you have any song in mind that you want to learn how to play?” He was now leaning on the piano with his face propped up on his hand, intently waiting for a reply from Keith.

 

“Uh,” Keith pondered. “I don’t know?”

 

“C’mon, just anything that comes to mind!” Lance encouraged, seemingly excited for the big reveal on Keith’s music tastes.

 

“Well, ‘Welcome to the Black Parade’ has a nice piano part for about the first minute,” Keith said after a long moment of contemplation, mentally browsing his music library.  
  
“Oh, I’m sure I can find any sheet music for the whole so—” Lance seemed to have gotten ahead of himself. “Wait. What?” he asked, his voice wobbly, looking as if he was feeling a mixture of pure terror and trying to hold back an enormous amount of laughter. 

 

“You know, like MCR. My Chemical Romance?” Keith raised an eyebrow. Was MCR more obscure than he thought? He didn’t think so, and besides, given that Lance was such a self-proclaimed music expert, he should know MCR, obviously. “I mean I know they’re broken up now, but still,”

 

“O-Oh yeah, I know what you’re talking about,” Lance managed to squeak. “Th-that’s a good idea, but why don’t we come up with a few more options?”

 

“Lance it took all I had to think of that one,” Keith huffed irritatedly.

 

“Well,” Lance was recovering from the apparent shock of Keith’s song selection. “Why don’t you give me your phone and I’ll take a look to see if I find anything that would be relatively easy for your current level? I promise I won’t look in your pictures or anything,” he snorted with sudden laughter. 

 

Wow, that’s a little personal. But it’s not like Keith had anything to be ashamed of, Lance could like it or leave it. So, against his better judgement, he opened his phone up to the music player and handed it to Lance. He began scrolling, a grin slowly spreading across his face, a few breathy chuckles escaping his lips.

 

“What?” Keith demanded, narrowing his eyes at his instructor. “What’s so funny?”

 

_And why is my heart beating like this?Is it really this hot in here?Am I really that nervous for him to see my music library?_

 

“This—This is _so emo, Keith,”_ Lance managed to get out, before unleashing all that he had been trying to hold in earlier, his laugh high and loud, ringing through the room and slightly down the hallway.

 

“H-hey! If you’re going to make fun of my music—” Keith bristled up and lunged for his phone, but Lance was too nimble for him, standing up and holding it high above his head, still scrolling and laughing, partly at the music but mostly at Keith’s current struggles. 

 

Keith was now even jumping for it, cursing his own inferior height, but even more infuriated at Lance’s superior one. “I’m gonna—I’m gonna kick your sorry ass if you don’t—”

 

“Hey, hey I found a good one!” Lance shouted, lowering the phone and backing away quickly from Keith, nearly causing him to fall over. 

 

“Oh? Do tell,” Keith spat, his voice dripping with malice, holding out his hand expectantly to receive his phone. 

 

“Your music taste is overall early 2000s emo, like—MCR, Paramore, Evanescence and _Linkin Park, Keith._ ” Lance stifled another laugh, but managed to calm himself due to the daggers that were being glared at him. “But you do have some nice hits of the ‘80s and ‘90s mixed in here, so good on you for those,” He returned Keith’s phone to him before sitting back down, having to retrieve his overturned chair from the floor first, which had been knocked over in their altercation. 

 

Keith jerked the phone away from Lance’s hand before he could release it, rudely jamming it in his pocket as he too, angrily helped the piano bench back to its feet and sat back down with a huff. “Well then,” he said, crossing his arms. “Even though you asked me what _I_ wanted to learn, what is it that _you_ want me to play?”

 

“Alright. Hear me out.” Lance paused, his whole body excited. “‘Don’t Stop Believin’’ by Journey.”

 

“What? That song would be so incomplete as just a piano piece though,” Keith stared at him, a little confused. Sure it’d still be a great song whether it was just piano or had all the original instruments, but the guitar solos really made it for him personally. 

 

“That’s what would make this amazing! I could accompany on electric and if you _really_ wanted to, I’m sure I could talk Hunk into coming in on bass,” His blue eyes were lost, as if he were envisioning this epic collaboration.

 

“I’m not doing that, Lance.” Keith deadpanned, absolutely murdering Lance’s enthusiasm. Or so he thought. 

 

“What?” Lance suddenly grabbed Keith’s shoulders and was dangerously within the boundaries of Keith’s personal space. “But it would be _so_ cool!!” 

 

“I-I’m not. And that’s final. I’ll—I’ll find something else,” Keith stuttered. Having Lance this close was doing _something._ He wasn’t exactly sure what. Excitement? Anger? Happiness? Loathing?

 

Lance let go of Keith, perhaps having noted how tense he had gotten. He laughed it off, but there was _something_ with him too. A flash of sadness, quickly covered up by a beaming grin. “That’s okay! You can think on it and text me your choice sometime before your next lesson and I can have some sheet music ready for you by then! But for now, why don’t we get back on ‘When the Saints Go Marching In’? That one’ll help you practice your timing and your chords!”

 

The rest of their lesson went on a little more quietly than normal. Small critiques and pointers, but less joking. At the end of their hour, they walked back out into the store together, Hunk and Pidge hanging out around the counter as always. It always seemed so strange that Hunk supposedly had a student at the same time that Lance had Keith, but was always leisurely awaiting them when they were done with their lesson. 

 

“So how is everything going, Keith? Like, with you and with your piano lessons, I do care about both,” Hunk inquired warmly as the duo approached. He was leaning against the counter and Pidge was sitting behind it, intently focused on their laptop. 

 

“Oh you know, good on both I think,” Keith gave a small grin. Lance barely stopped smiling, but Hunk could never not get Keith to smile. The guy was honestly a never-ending basket of sunshine. Did he keep coming to lessons for Hunk? Was that why? The prospect of getting a guaranteed brightening of his day? He couldn’t shake the feeling that the answer was unfortunately no. Hunk had been out running errands for everyone between lessons a few times before and he had missed him, but he hadn’t been devastated, exactly.

 

“But Lance successfully pissed me off by making fun of my music tastes when he asked me what _I_ wanted to do.” Keith rolled his eyes.   
  
“And let me guess, he chose what _he_ wanted you to play,” Pidge piped up, not even taking their eyes off of the screen of their computer.

 

“You’ve got it,” Keith responded, grinning a little to himself at the fact that apparently this happened so often that even Pidge could call him out on it. 

 

“ _Well,_ ” Lance finally said, a little exasperatedly, perhaps even a bit on-edge. “Once everyone is done with Trash on Lance day, I do have something to give you,” he nodded towards Keith as he went to rummage around under the counter.

 

“On top of the counter, next to the instrument cleaning brochures,” Hunk added absently after a moment. 

 

“Right, right,” Lance muttered, shaking his head. His hands nearly shook as he separated the top piece of paper from the small stack.   
  
Keith watched closely as Lance straightened out what now seemed to be a flyer, and nearly shoved it towards him. 

 

“Uh,” Lance blurted, his ears a little pink. “We’re playing at the bar on Vanderbilt Avenue this Saturday night, if you, you know, wanna come,” He quickly jammed his hands in his pockets, looking down, almost seeming pouty, until he came up with the unmistakable grin of Lance McClain, though a little bit shakier, Keith noticed.

 

He examined the flyer, loud yellows, greens and blues shouting from it, demanding attention, but nearly off-putting—not unlike Lance himself. “You guys have a band?” Keith asked, not looking up from the paper.

 

“Yeah, pretty neat right??” 

 

“Pretty neat if you’re really into pot, I guess.”

 

“What?”

 

Keith shook his head. He now had the attention of all three of his musically inclined cohorts. “Your band’s name is Hash, right?”

 

“Yeah! It ties into all of us in some way—Hunk is a great cook and hash is a great dish. Hash is also apparently a hacker term or just a tech term in general? I don’t know, that’s Pidge’s thing. And I,” Lance smiled proudly. “I thought if we ever make it big, #hash would be quite the clever tag for us. Also, our fans could be called the Hash-Slinging Slashers!! You know, from Spongebob??”

 

“Lance, hash is also a hallucinogen stronger than weed.” Keith deadpanned.

 

Both Lance and Hunk’s mouths nearly dropped to the floor. Pidge looked slightly uncomfortable.

 

“What??” Lance finally blurted after a moment, making erratic and distressed gestures with his hands. “We even have t-shirts and everything! And no one told us!!”

 

Keith stifled a laugh; poor Lance looked so dejected, like everything in life that is pure and good has cracked and crumbled apart right in front of him, the debris swept up into a neat pile at his feet. Hunk looked purely terrified and Pidge was uneasily quiet.

 

“Pidge did you know?” Lance demanded suddenly, his attention all over the fact that Pidge was able to continue what they were doing without any more than a hesitant flinch.

 

“No.” They replied, swallowing hard and taking a shaky sip from their water bottle.   
  
“YOU DID, DIDN’T YOU?” Lance nearly screeched. 

 

“NO!—…Okay _maybe_ I did but it was after the t-shirts, I wasn’t gonna break your stupid little hearts!”

 

Keith took this opportunity to split out of there before the discourse got a little too loud and annoying. He laughingly slipped away, taking the perilous journey through the forest of instruments and walls of music books and nearly getting away, but caught by Lance as he was opening the door to exit.   
  
“I can’t believe you _knew_ and—Hey! W-wait up!” he exclaimed, breaking away from his quarrel with Pidge. 

 

“What?” Keith sighed. He literally had his hand on the door handle. One second longer and he could have avoided this.

 

“Are you coming?… You know, Saturday?”

 

Keith paused, watching Hunk and Pidge turn to look expectantly as well, hearing the slight tremor in Lance’s words. He glanced down at the flyer in his hand. The silence in his internal decision-making was tangible.

 

“I’ll think about it.” Keith muttered before hurrying out.

 

As he left, he heard a chorus of screams from behind the door he’d just exited. “He said yes!” and “That doesn’t mean yes!” and “It’s close enough!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find me @ spacesasuke.tumblr.com <3


	4. Red Suited Him

Saturday came quickly and Keith still wasn’t sure if he was going to go. He’d mulled it over and but eventually came to the conclusion that he was going to stay in for the night. Saturday was always Keith and Shiro’s night. Most of the time they had nothing else to do and watched movies together on the couch. Sometimes hours would pass wordlessly between them, but just being in the presence of one another after a week of barely seeing each other was enough for them. Surely, they’d give commentary and talk between  movies, but there was never guaranteed conversation. 

 

Keith had just so happened to have to work that Saturday during the day and ran some errands afterwards, getting him home at about 5:00pm. He even brought back takeout for their dinner because it saved them from having to tip the delivery boy if they ordered it later. But he was welcomed home with silence. 

 

“Shiro?” Keith called casually as he dropped his things at the door and the takeout bags on the kitchen table.   
  
“Yeah?” Shiro responded, peeking out from the bathroom down the hall, looking a little tousled. His bangs were pinned back and he looked like he’d messed up his eyeliner about forty times and was still trying, his shaky hands still holding the tube and the applicator.

 

“Woah, what’s got you up in the air like this?” Keith smiled slightly as he walked towards his brother, gesturing as if to silently ask for the liquid eyeliner. 

 

“Oh, it’s nothing, really.” Shiro said, forfeiting his makeup. 

 

“Nothing, huh?” Keith leaned up and applied Shiro’s eyeliner with a practiced hand. “ _Nothing_ has you putting on eyeliner on a lazy Saturday night on the couch?”

 

“Actually, I have—I have a date.” Shiro gave a nervous grin, obviously trying to seem confident, but it honestly sounded like his mouth went dry halfway through his sentence. 

 

Keith’s brows furrowed, pausing his skillful application and squinting and frowning briefly at Shiro before returning to his work. 

 

“What was that?”  
  
“What was _what?_ ”

  
“Keith, you made a face and you know it.”

“I _did not_.” Keith said shortly, pursing his lips subconsciously.

 

“You still are! You’re making that little pouty face you make when you don’t get something you want.” Shiro accused. 

 

Keith’s little frown deepened as he snapped the eyeliner closed and slammed it on the counter, leaving his brother in the bathroom alone. 

 

“ _Keith,_ don’t be like that!” Shiro called, following closely behind. 

 

“Be like _what,_ Shiro?”

 

“If you’re upset about me going out a date—”

 

“I’m _not._ ” Keith ripped open the takeout container and started angrily shoveling its content into his mouth.   
  
“Okay, impulse eating is neither going to help or stop me from going on a date. You’re going to be sick or choke on it if you don’t stop being a baby.” Shiro crossed his arms and sighed, looking really serious with his hair pinned back. 

 

Keith began to protest, but nearly choked on his lo mein, cursing the higher powers that caused Shiro’s forecast to come true. His brother patted him on the back, a general gesture to do when someone was choking but everything was under control. 

 

“Besides, why don’t you go to that concert?” Shiro suggested, sending a shock through Keith as he gave a post-choking cough. 

 

“Wh-What concert? How did you know about that?” 

 

“Keith you really need to stop leaving things literally on the kitchen table if you don’t want me to find out. But, I mean, it kind of seems like you weren’t planning on going anyway.” He gestured to the takeout that Keith had so aggressively dug into. “I think it would be a good idea for you to get out of the house though.”  
  
“I was out of the house all day, Shiro.” Keith pouted, placing the takeout container he had been working on on the counter. 

 

“Keith, you had _work._ That’s different. A concert would be fun.”

 

“It’s more of just a show at a bar. Full of drunk and stupid people. Drunk stupid people.” Keith mumbled.

 

“How do you know you won’t like it if you don’t try?” Shiro reasoned, giving him quite a Dad Look.

 

“Look, Shiro. You’re not going to get me to go to this show in the same way that you tried to get me to like carrots when I was a kid. Not gonna work.” Keith glared, hopping up and sitting on the counter next to his apparently solo dinner. He needed to be on the same vertical level as Shiro to take himself seriously right now. 

 

“It’s up to you, Keith. You’re an adult, you can make your own decisions.” Shiro waved him off and started walking back towards the bathroom. “But seriously, you probably wouldn’t need contacts or glasses if you would have eaten carrots like I told you to.”

 

Keith stared after him as he laughed all the way back into the bathroom. “Asshole.” he grumbled. 

 

He sat there for a while. Listening to Shiro as he hummed slightly while he got ready, he simmered, his temper slowly rose. 

 

 _How could he? This is_ our _night. We barely get to see each other during the week and now he goes and makes plans?? Sure, sometimes Matt comes over and they kind of do their own thing, but Shiro is still here. With_ me _. And now I’m just going to be here alone. On a Saturday night. How lame. It’s his fault that I’m lame now. Thanks, Shiro._

 

Keith’s brewing thoughts were abruptly stopped by Shiro presenting himself to his younger brother. “So. How do I look?” He turned a bit, showing all sides of the outfit. Very casual, but also a little dressy. 

 

“Like shit.”

 

“Ha ha. Very funny, Keith.” Shiro took one last look at the mirror near the door, looking as if he was giving himself a mental pep talk. He walked over to Keith, slapping him on the shoulder briefly. “Hey. Go out and have some fun, alright?”

 

“I can stay in and have fun.”  
  
“Not without me.” Shiro joked as he turned and started towards the door. Keith watched him from the open kitchen. He looked confident. Ready to leave. To leave Keith. Shiro was grabbing his keys and was preparing to open the door and go. 

 

“Who are you even going out with anyway? Allura?” Keith blurted, staring at the linoleum and avoiding eye contact with his brother. 

 

“I—. I’ll explain when I get home, alright?” Shiro grinned, the confidence in his body language going a little more nervous, but barely wavering at all. 

 

“Yeah.”  
   
“Alright, have fun!”

 

Keith gave only a grunt in response, but the door had already shut. He was alone. 

 

After a while, he got off of the counter and took his dinner to the couch. Like hell was he going to leave Shiro any, though. This was called payback. He moped in front of the TV for a while and he soon realized it had gotten dark outside. Keith got up and threw away his trash. Yeah, he did eat both his and Shiro’s meal. He didn’t hurt now, but it would definitely catch up with him later.

 

He spotted the loud poster he’d received from Lance attached to the fridge with a small magnet. Thanks, Shiro. 

 

Keith glanced at the clock. He’d be late if he left now, but not by much. Did he really want to go? Something in the pit of his gut said that he did. He wanted to see Lance sing, he wanted to see Hunk play bass guitar, he wanted to see Pidge on the drums. He wanted to see them differently. He wanted to see them out of their normal element, he wanted to be mesmerized by them. 

 

He took a deep breath and grabbed his wallet. Keith found himself descending the many sets of steps to the ground floor when he realized he was still in his work clothes. He quickly jogged back up the steps, went to his room, changed and exited once again. He was already down to the bottom when he remembered that he forgot a jacket, but it wasn’t _that_ cold and it wasn’t _that_ long of a walk to the venue of the show. 

 

Music spilled out into the street as Keith opened the door to the bar. Whatever song they were on was winding down. He took this opportunity to find a secluded table where he could keep to himself. As he sat down, he took a look at the small stage, only to see Hunk leaning over to whisper in Lance’s ear, triggering a huge reaction from him. Lance grinned and scanned the crowd, his eyes finally landing on Keith.

 

Keith’s face grew hot. Had he been looking for him? Then Lance waved at him and many people turned and looked at him. He was surprised that they were sober and attentive enough to realize where their performer was aiming his greeting. 

 

Keith returned the wave slowly, giving a shaky smile. He could even _feel_ how red his ears were. How embarrassing. 

 

Lance refocused on starting the next number, biting his bottom lip a little and seeming to hype himself up, bouncing on his heels a bit before cuing Pidge and Hunk to start playing again. 

 

Keith settled into his seat properly and remembered to set his phone on vibrate. Sure, this was an extremely casual setting—it was a bar, for God’s sake—but he could still be a decent human being and respect the performance. The song began and he admired Hunk and Pidge’s instrumental intros. He had never really seen them play anything. Keith obviously knew that they did, but knowing and seeing where two different things. Then Lance began to sing.

 

It was smooth, but a little rough around the edges, just like Lance. It took his breath away for a moment, but he regathered himself quickly. Even though his singing voice was fitting to him, it was still just a very, very pleasant surprise. Lance kept stealing glances in his direction and Keith was entranced. So entranced, in fact, that when a waitress came to ask him what he wanted to drink, she had tried to get his attention three times before resulting to tapping him on the shoulder to finally ask for his order. 

 

Keith blinked and ordered some alcohol, something strong. He wasn’t driving and he figured he’d need a little something tonight. His heart hurt. The waitress left to go get his drink and his heart ached for Lance. They were in the same room, but he missed him. The small distance between them felt like miles in comparison to the close proximities they normally shared. He longed for the intimate setting of their lessons, then he caught himself. 

 

Keith’s nose crinkled in thought and realization. _I like Lance._

 

Continuing in his lessons, getting flustered at some things Lance did, secretly having to calm his heart when he heard Lance’s excitement behind the glass doors of Altean Medley at even the _potential_ of Keith coming to their show, and even the decision of coming to the show instead of staying home and moping around, it all made sense now. He liked Lance. And judging by the way Lance acted around him, Lance could like him too. 

 

His heart hurt. The waitress came back with his drink and he went ahead and ordered another. This epiphany in conjunction with how much Lance’s singing was doing to him was a little more than overwhelming. So why not drown it out and push it away? Because that’s healthy.

 

By the time the show wound down and the last number was played, judging on the state Keith was in, one would think that he had dried up the brewery in that night alone. Given that he did have a bit of muscle mass and all that takeout he had consumed earlier as a tolerance cushion, Keith downed way too much alcohol for his own good. Not an unsafe amount, but too much for the same Keith that stayed in with his brother as opposed to partying and getting smashed at parties on a weekly basis like most of the other people at his college were doing. 

 

Keith’s cognitive skills were a little too slow at this point to track all of his movement, but after the show wrapped up and Lance had done enough packing up to excuse going to talk to Keith, he bounded down from the small stage and over to Keith’s table. 

 

“Hey Keith!” Lance exclaimed, way too excited for Keith to handle properly.

 

“Hey,” Keith slurred, a sloppy grin on his face as he rested his cheek in his palm and leaned over. He looked around himself briefly. A few glasses half-empty, some completely empty and knocked over—it was a mess. However, he returned his attention to the blue eyes in front of him, despite his faint disgust at his surroundings.

 

“So did you enjoy the show?”

 

“I enjoyed _your ass._ ” Keith joked, his sense of humor extremely forward and impaired.

 

That seemed to take Lance by surprise. The mouth that never shut was stunned in silence for a moment before bubbling with laughter. “Dude, how much did you have to drink?”  
  
“I’m not even kidding here,” Keith pointed at him drunkenly. “Those pants? Yeah, those ones right there. Make your ass look really cute.”

 

Lance cast his eyes at the ceiling as his smiling face turned beet red. Keith looked up too because obviously something was up there. (He didn’t see anything of interest though.)

 

Then Lance’s hand was on his shoulder. “Do you need a ride home? You don’t need to be driving like this.”

 

“I’ll have you know that I walked here all by myself!” Keith declared loudly, full of sloshed pride. “Even without my asshole brother! I-I don’t need him!”   
  
“Keith—Keith, are you cryi—”

 

“Your asshole brother is here to take you home, Keith. Come on.” Shiro’s gentle voice filtered from the noise of the bar, which had died down a bit but was still going strong.   
  
Two other people were with him that Keith couldn’t be bothered to identify at the time. A brief conversation between Lance and Shiro ensued, friendly and familiar. Keith was then helped to his feet and supported by someone that smelled nice as Lance ran backstage to get the jacket that Keith had so often seen him in before helping him into it in fear of getting cold without a jacket on the way home. 

 

“Text me when you get home, Keith. I trust that you’ll be safe, but. You know.” Lance was red again. It suited him. 

 

The rest was a blur. Swiping away the tears that had apparently fallen and kept falling from his eyes and eventually falling asleep in someone’s lap on the way home. He remembered stumbling into his room and landing on top of his bed. He typed something out to Lance and fell asleep without even attempting to change into pajamas, get ready for bed or even get under the sheets. He was out like the light he never bothered to turn on upon entrance to his room. 

 

__________

 

Keith staggered out of bedroom in the middle of the night for quite the unpleasant trip to the bathroom. His head already pounded and his stomach did flips and turns. Wasn’t this supposed to happen in the actual morning, not just when the clock declared it AM?

 

He groggily brushed his teeth to get that terrible taste out of his mouth before changing into a t-shirt and sweatpants and crawling under the covers. Shiro had apparently covered him up with a blanket at some point, but nothing beat getting in the bed the proper way. Since he was already up, he reached for his phone, thrown haphazardly on his nightstand and reached for the charger—it was in here somewhere—wait. A text message at this time of the night?

 

Lance.

 

Memories from the show slowly leaked back into his consciousness. _Oh no. No, no. God,_ please _don’t let me have actually said what I think I said._

 

He unlocked his phone.  
  
(01:45): lmao glad you got home safely keith

(01:46): good night!! hope you dont feel too bad in the morning lol

 

Ok, that was pretty alri— _No._

 

He looked at what _he_ had texted Lance. A peach emoji. A sparkle emoji. And a thumbs up emoji.

 

“Oh _hell no._ ”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keith my boy, what have you done  
> Things come full circle in the last line huh : ^ )
> 
> find me @ spacesasuke.tumblr.com <3


	5. A Simple Exchange

Keith shuffled out of bed the next morning, plagued with a dull headache, but surprisingly enough, a hungry stomach. He seemed to have rid himself of the nausea when he had woken up earlier. But still, thank all the powers that be for giving him Sunday, a recovery day, before having to return to normal life on Monday. 

 

Into the kitchen he went, following the scent of coffee and breakfast. He sat down at the table beside Matt and across from another person, a dark-skinned woman with very light hair and striking blue eyes. He was too incoherent to even ask questions. 

 

“Morning, Keith!” Shiro chirped. “Do you feel alright this morning? We kinda heard you uh. In the bathroom at like 3am.”

 

“My head hurts, but my stomach is okay. For now.” Keith mumbled. 

 

“Good. You were pretty wrecked last night.” Matt chimed in, laughing.

 

The three of them laughed, but not Keith. The ache in his head pounded at the additional sound. 

 

“My name is Allura, by the way.” The mystery woman added, holding out her hand for Keith to shake, her smile confident and dazzling. Her composure nearly won Keith’s respect right off the bat, but he was too impaired to make that final decision. 

 

Ah. This was Allura. Keith had seen her in the store a few times, but hadn’t really paid attention. She owned Altean Medley and stopped in sometimes. Lance always made it a point to flirt with her and it honestly annoyed Keith to no end, mostly because he was just here to take a piano lesson, he was a man on a schedule and Lance was messing that up. 

 

“I’m not sure if you remember, but your head was in my lap the whole way home.” As she laughed, notably quieter, having noticed Keith’s cringe at the noise earlier. 

 

_Alright. She can’t be Shiro’s girlfriend now. Sorry Shiro. I’ve already permanently embarrassed myself in front of her. Just can’t happen anymore._

 

Keith hesitantly shook her hand, the strength in her grip was impeccable. “Keith. And, uh. Sorry about that.”

 

Allura waved it off and suddenly there was a plate of food in front of Keith. “Hangover food. And coffee.” Shiro stated, patting Keith on the back a little.

 

“Which is also a hangover beverage.” Matt finished matter-of-factly. Keith began to eat as his companions made idle chitchat about the night before. The food smelled so good, it tasted even better. Keith could cook to get by, but Shiro could _really_ cook, or at least to Keith’s standards. He hadn’t been more impressed by any other nonprofessional person as of yet. When it came to baking, however, neither of them were superb, but Keith could at least successfully execute making a cake from a powder mixture in a box and a handful of ingredients without setting the apartment on fire. 

 

“And not to mention you were _totally_ flirting with Lance.” Matt smirked, his voice teasing. Keith nearly spit out the hot coffee in his mouth, but managed to force it down after the shock of that comment. 

 

“How do you—”

 

“We were all standing right there, Keith, you loverboy, you.” Matt’s nose scrunched up in a grin as  he made fun of Keith. “We managed to walk in on around the ‘Those pants? Yeah, those ones right there. Make your ass look really cute.’” Matt snorted and in came a chorus of laughter from Allura and Shiro.

 

“Lance is a flirt, but when someone hits him with a taste of his own medicine, he has no clue how to respond.” Allura said, surely drawing from her many years of dealing with Lance McClain. 

 

“I wasn’t—! B-besides, how do you even know him??” Keith stuttered out, more directed at Matt, his face extremely flushed and embarrassed. He knew Allura was Lance’s boss of sorts, so that was no surprise. 

 

“I’m Pidge’s older brother, duh.”

 

_Of course. Something had seemed vaguely familiar about Pidge when I met them. Says something about both of us that neither of us remembered each other enough to say anything._

 

“Lance and Hunk used to hang out at our apartment almost every night before Pidge moved in with them as a roommate. I’m a free man now!” Matt declared boisterously. 

 

“You called me just the other night, crying because you missed Pidge and they brushed you off because it was Tim Burton marathon night. As well as the fact that they didn’t invite you, I might add.”

 

“That was one time!” It was Matt’s turn to get a little flustered. There was something between them, something closer than a joking friendship. He couldn’t put his finger on it exactly, mostly because he couldn’t get over how Matt called him out like that.  
  
“Besides, we’re talking about our boy Keith’s romantic endeavors here, not my involuntary sibling estrangement.” _Shit. Of course Matt would find a way to steer it back to me._

 

“I was _drunk_ , Matt. I didn’t know what I was saying.” Keith grumbled, pushing his food around his plate.

 

“ _Sure._ And you totally weren’t mumbling about him in your sleep when we got up this morning.”

 

“What??” Keith nearly screeched. How dare his subconscious betray him like that!

 

“Besides, you don’t have anything to worry about, I don’t think.” Matt leaned back in his chair knowingly, crossing his arms.

 

“What do you mean?” Keith said slowly in a lower tone, uncertain as to whether he wanted the answer.

 

“Pidge called me on their self-proclaimed break yesterday, complaining about how they needed to get away from Lance going on and on about this guy he liked. I’d wager that it’s you.” Matt grinned, loving that he could transport this gossip to its potential source. Keith could definitely see the common family trait of devil’s advocate and subsequent instigator between Matt and Pidge now.

 

Keith pursed his lips and continued eating his breakfast, refusing to respond. That’s what had gotten him started last night. Emotions he couldn’t deal with at the moment. 

 

“Cat got your tongue, Keith?” This time it was Shiro doing the taunting. 

 

“No! Besides, what the hell is everyone doing here on a Sunday morning? I know you were on a date with Allura, I guess, but what is _this_ asshole doing here?” Keith blurted, jabbing his finger towards Matt, a little irritated from the teasing and from his headache. 

 

“I love you too, Keith.” He could hear Matt’s stupid little smirk without even looking at him.

 

“I, um.”

 

“What?” Keith was suddenly a little worried. Shiro’s voice was a little shaky and uncertain, this very unlike him. 

 

“You can tell him, Shiro.” Allura encouraged, placing a comforting hand on his arm. 

 

“ _What?_ ” The lasting silence was really getting to Keith and it was stressing him out. 

 

“I’m dating them both.” Shiro stated, clearing his throat and avoiding eye contact. Keith could feel Allura and Matt’s eyes boring into him as he soaked in the information.

 

“Okay.”

 

“Okay?” The three of them chorused, surprise evident in their voice.

 

“Yeah.” Keith glanced at all of them, a little unaware as to why this was such a big deal. Society might not view it as not a big deal, but being gay was also a big deal to society and Keith had stopped caring about that a long time ago. 

 

“You’re okay with it?” Shiro asked again in disbelief.

 

“It’s up to you, Shiro. You’re an adult, you can make your own choices.” Keith echoed what Shiro had told him the evening prior, in reference to going to the show. 

 

For a moment, Shiro was quiet, continuing to stare at his brother in astonishment. Then he understood what he was referencing and began to laugh. It was nice to see him laugh after being so nervous. Allura and Matt laughed along quietly, obviously not understanding where the joke was. That was something just between Shiro and Keith. Even if they couldn’t have every Saturday night as _their_ night anymore, they could at least have moments like this together. 

 

Keith and Shiro exchanged a glance and a smile. Keith’s head and his heart was feeling a little better. Breakfast passed on, the four of them talking for a few hours, but he soon excused himself back to his room. Saturday was usually laundry day, but obviously, Keith missed that. Shiro probably had done his while Keith was at work the day prior. He walked around his room, picking up the stray pieces of clothing he had shed when he changed in the middle of the night. 

 

One of these things was not like the other. One of these things were not his. _How did I end up with Lance’s jacket?…_

 

He vaguely recollected Lance disappearing into the back room and coming back with something. And…helping him into his jacket. Lance had worried for him. Even though he was going home in a heated car with Shiro and the others, Lance went without because he was afraid Keith might get cold. 

 

Keith folded it as best he could and placed it on his bed. He picked up his phone. Already a few texts from Lance. 

 

(11:22) GOOD MORNING!!!

(11:24) ok, maybe it’s almost not morning but i just woke up so its morning to me

(11:37) i hope i didnt wake you up lmao you probably have a hangover

 

Keith felt himself smiling. He laughed quietly, noticing that Lance didn’t even have auto-capitalize on, and began to type out a response. 

 

(11:55) Hey. Thanks for last night. 

(11:56) And I’m uh, sorry for last night.

(11:57) Do you want me to meet you somewhere to bring you your jacket?

(11:57) Or I can come by the store tomorrow or something. 

(11:57) I mean I know it’s not my lesson day but yeah.

 

He tossed his phone on his bed, and it nearly bounced off onto the floor. He gathered up the rest of his dirty clothes and took it down the hall to the washroom. Once they were all in the washer and ready to go, he turned it on and decided to take a shower before he did anything else. When he returned to his room, there were several texts waiting for him from Lance. 

 

(12:02) we could meet for coffee or something around 3??

(12:20) oh god was that too forward  
(12:21) keith are you there 

(12:23) urgh im sorry you can keep the jacket i can never show my face again

(12:26) just promise me ur gonna keep playing piano you really have the hands for it

(12:26) its my dying wish

 

_So Lance is this overdramatic in text too, huh? Also, is this… a date? Probably not. Just a jacket exchange. Exchange? I’m not getting anything in return. A giving-back of a borrowed jacket. That’s better._

 

Keith flopped down on his bed, the towel he had hanging around his neck to tousle his hair to a state of dampness as opposed to complete, dripping wetness fell haphazardly beside him. 

 

(12:31) Lance it’s ok, I was in the shower. 

(12:31) Coffee is fine. 

(12:32) Where at?

 

It only took a moment for Lance to respond. 

 

(12:32) the one on w main st??

(12:33) im so excited!!!! 

 

A wildly assorted string of emojis followed. 

 

“Keith, what are you laughing at?”  
  
“Nothing, Shiro!”

 

__________

 

After a while of teasing and taunting, Keith finally managed to get out the door and on his way to the coffee shop. Lance had picked a place quite near the venue of their show last night, so Keith just walked again. It would have been too much trouble and a waste of gas getting his vehicle out of the crowded parking deck for such a short trip. 

 

He walked a little faster to make up time and to keep from getting too cold, but still ended up a minute or two late. But then again, ‘around 3’ was not a very hard and fast time. Lance was already there, sitting at a booth near a window. He waved excitedly. Keith waved back, feeling his cold cheeks warm up a bit before entering into the even warmer coffee shop. He took the seat across from Lance and handed him his jacket.

 

“Here.” Keith gave a bit of a smile. “Thanks again. Have you ordered already?”

 

“Yeah—Well, kind of. I’m kind of a regular here, so most of the employees have my usual order memorized.” Lance laughed quietly, placing the folded jacket beside him in the booth. “But yeah, no sweat, man. What were you doing without a jacket in the first place? You could have gotten a cold or something.”

 

“What are you, Lance? My mom?” Keith snorted. 

 

“Shut up, just answer my question.” Lance’s nose crinkled a little as a grin played on his lips. 

 

_Be still, my heart._

 

“I just forgot. Simple as that.”

 

They made small talk for a while, Keith ordered, and they both received their drinks, but then it finally happened. The thing that Keith had feared. 

 

“So I have a nice ass, huh?” Lance inquired ever so casually, a smug grin peeking out from his mug. 

 

Keith nearly spit his hot coffee all over the table, but managed to refrain. Seriously, this is the second time this has happened today. He cleared his throat and with as much fake confidence as he could muster, looked Lance in the eyes. “I did not say that. Not outright.”

 

“Yeah, you kinda did.” Lance smirked. “You can even ask Shiro, he was there for at least part of that, I think. You should stop running away from your feelings you know. They even say alcohol can be a truth serum, letting you say things that you have wanted to say for a whi—”

 

“Lance I swear to God if you don’t drop it I’m going to—!”

 

“Going to what, Keith?” Lance asked playfully, cutting his eyes at Keith, waiting for whatever answer he could come up with. 

 

“I’ll—…I’ll tell Allura that you have a crush on her!” 

 

Keith was obviously grabbing at straws here. It was pretty evident that Lance did, it wasn’t really a secret. 

 

“But—! I—” Lance stuttered out, clearly a little flustered. “I don’t—”

 

“But what, McClain?” Keith raised an eyebrow, interested as to what the big hold-up was. He could picture it, the headlines screaming: “Local Lance is Stunned to Rare Silence After Being Called Out! (read more on page 3)”

 

“How about this, I drop the Allura thing and you drop the whole cute ass thing, yeah?” Keith proposed after a moment.

 

“That’s a bit of an uneven deal for me, since the dirt you think you have on me isn’t true.” The Real Lance McClain™ was back, with an award-winning smile of mischief and everything. 

 

“Really?”

 

“Really.”

 

“Well. I mean. The whole cute ass thing is null and void too.” Keith said shortly, frowning. “I didn’t mean it.”

 

Lance’s face seemed to drop. _Did he really want me to validate how pretty his ass is? Is that what this is? I mean the statement is valid, even though I said it wasn’t, but._ Keith was honestly just angry that he had to lie to come back from the shocker that Lance might not be crushing on Allura. Then again, Lance could be lying too. 

 

“Right.” Lance laughed, dull and a little hollow. _Yeah, he feels a little shot down over his ass. That’s exactly what this is._

 

“So. How did you enjoy the show?” The normal luster in Lance’s blue eyes was kind of gone. Something hurt in Keith’s chest. 

 

_Changing the subject, huh? Fine by me._

 

“I actually did like it. Some of it’s a bit hazy as you can, uh. Probably imagine. But you definitely surprised me, I think.” Keith responded, trying to compliment Lance without feeding his ego _too_ much. 

 

“What, were you expecting us to be bad?” Lance asked, laughing a bit.

 

“I expected _you_ to be bad. I know Hunk and Pidge have a level of mastery with their instruments.” 

 

“I am offended!” Lance gasped dramatically. Keith wasn’t sure if he picked up on the fact that he was just teasing him or was this good at being overdramatic. He could honestly see either option.

 

“All joking aside,” Keith grinned after a moment, taking a sip of his coffee. “Is that what you want to do in life? Get famous and go on the road? I mean, I do suggest that you choose a new name before that happens, but.”

 

“Ha ha, Keith, very funny.” Lance said, smirking a little before he continued. “But, as cool as that would be, the three of us actually are going in three separate directions in terms of career paths. Mine’s the only one that’s even music-related at all. This was just sort of a high school dream of ours that didn’t work out then, but kind of bled into college. Just for fun, I guess.”

 

“Oh. Well what are you guys thinking of going into?” Keith was taken aback. They were all so musically talented and seemed so passionate about the lessons they taught at Altean Medley. He was a little relieved to hear that Lance was going into the music field, but if it wasn’t being a performer, what was it exactly?

 

“Well, Pidge is into techy stuff that I can’t say that I even begin to comprehend, so they want to go into that field. Some big-name degree, too. Hunk is about to get a degree in engineering as his fallback career, but since he got a full ride scholarship, he used the past four years to save up and prepare for culinary school, how cool is that! He just found out he got accepted into his top choice a few weeks ago.” Lance beamed. He seemed so proud of his best friends and their current achievements and aspirations. 

 

“And what about you?” 

 

“I want to be a music teacher!” Lance exclaimed, gripping his coffee cup with such vigor. “More specifically a band teacher, but I’m also qualified to teach Music Theory, which is a bit of a drag, and probably a Piano course, but most high schools don’t offer that to students. I’m prepared for anything, honestly.”

 

Keith blinked. That. _That_ was something he wasn’t expecting from Lance McClain. Just in conversation in their lessons, Lance had talked about how much he flew by the seat of his pants through his mandatory years of education, but now he wanted to be a _teacher?_ There was absolutely nothing wrong with wanting to be a teacher, but Lance McClain? A teacher? Keith just couldn’t fully picture it. The goof that was sitting in front of him now, the cool guy that was on stage last night (though he’d never tell Lance that he thought he was cool), a school teacher? A band teacher. 

 

“Keith? Helloo, earth to Keith, do you come in?” 

 

“ _A band teacher?_ ” Keith asked, an expression of complete confusion etched into his features. 

 

“Yeah!” Lance nodded. “I know it might not seem a lot like me, but my greatest musical influences come in this order. 1. My Grandma. 2. My Middle School Band Teacher. 3. Beyoncé.”

 

Okay, his number three let Keith know that he was still talking to Lance. Keith was about to respond when Lance’s phone began to ring.  
  
“Ah, my mom.” Lance hesitated. “I’ll call her back once I leave.”

 

“You sure? I don’t mind.” Keith knew the wrath of Shiro when he missed a call from him and didn’t call back right away. Keith also knew how it was to have no mom to call him.

 

More hesitation. It was as if Lance was between sacrificing his time with Keith and getting chewed out by his mom, and somehow thought it was a good idea to value the former more. “Nah, she’ll be fine, I’m sure. Won’t be the first time and won’t be the last time that I get in trouble with her.” Lance laughed. 

 

Keith nodded. “But a band teacher, really? I thought you said you hated your band teacher.”

 

“Yes, my band teacher in high school. He was an asshole from hell.” Lance stated matter-of-factly. His phone rang again. He put it on vibrate. “My band teacher in middle school helped intensify my love for music, actually. I’m still really close friends with her. But I want to go into high school band because high schoolers, while I know from experience that they’re hell on earth, at least they’re not going through their edgy, prepubescent phases anymore like they are in middle school. I picked my poison.”

 

“Lance, I can still hear your phone vibrating, you really need to answer your mom.”

 

“Keith, it’ll be fine, stop pestering me.” Lance frowned, though Keith could see a sense of worry on his face. _Is his mom just the type to call a million times or is there something actually going on?_

 

“Lance, if you’re worried about being rude, I’m fine. If Shiro called me right now, I know better than to ignore him.” Keith knew. He’d seen some things. 

 

“Yeah, I totally didn’t connect you and Shiro, like, at all. I really didn’t know you were brothers.”

 

“I’m adopted and you’re changing the subject.”

 

“You’re adopted?”

 

“Answer your mom.”

 

“Keith, stop that, I’m asking you a question.”

 

“Yes, I’m fucking adopted, now go outside and answer your mom!”

 

_Okay, maybe that was a little too aggressive. Oh God, he looks like he’s either about to cry or about to punch me. Or both._

 

“Fine. I’ll be right back.” Lance slid out of the booth and walked outside, seemingly a little hurt by Keith’s tone. Keith watched out the window as he went to dial the phone, but was clearly interrupted by another incoming call, this time in which he answered. He talked for a moment, covering his other ear with a gloved hand, so he could hear better over the city traffic. Keith couldn’t see his face, but something about his body language changed. Suddenly, he hung up the phone and started across the street, nearly running towards the beaten up, blue car that Keith recognized from the parking lot of Altean Medley. He had theorized that that one was Lance’s. For a moment, he was satisfied that he was right. _Wait, is he leaving?_

 

And surely, he was. He nearly got hit on his way across the busy street, but he made it to his own and drove off in what seemed like a panic. 

 

Okay, so now Keith was alone. He was at least a little concerned for whatever had caused Lance’s abrupt exit, but he was also a little shocked and slightly irritated that he was now stuck with paying for both of their orders. He was also still stuck with Lance’s jacket. 

 

Keith waited for a while. 

 

_Is he coming back?_

 

He finished his coffee and ordered a hot chocolate. 

 

_Should I text him?_

 

Keith switched seats to where Lance had been sitting so that he could people-watch while he waited. 

 

_Should keep sitting here? I think the baristas have noticed and feel sorry for me._

 

It was beginning to get dark.  He texted Lance to see if everything was okay. No response.

 

_I swear to God if I have to pay for both of us._

 

If Keith hadn’t switched to hot chocolate, he’d be on one hell of a caffeine high right now. He sighed to himself. 

 

_It’s been over two hours. I guess I’m paying for both. I feel like I got stood up._

 

Keith got up with Lance’s jacket folded over his arm and paid for both of their orders. He was thankful that there had been a shift change and that the baristas who pitied him for getting left there by himself had already left. He left as well and began to walk back home, a little downtrodden. When he was out from under the awning at the front door he noticed that it had begun to rain. He flipped his hood up and walked a little faster. 

 

_I hope everything’s alright. But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m pissed that he skipped out on the bill. That’s alright. He’s gonna pay for next time._

 

Wait. 

 

_Will there even be a next time? That was just a simple giving-back of a borrowed jacket. Nothing more, nothing less._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was more than just a validation of his ass, Keith.  
> ALSO POLY ALLURA AND SHIRO AND MATT YES MY SHIT RIGHT THERE
> 
> find me @ spacesasuke on tumblr!!  
> scream at me about THESE BOYS!!


End file.
